Son of Fame
by thepinkdolphin
Summary: Three years after the epilogue and James Sirius Potter is fifteen years old. These are his problems regarding his famous father and the normal trials of being a teenager.


"Anything from the trolley, dears?"

"None for me thanks, I think I just had enough breakfast to last me until Christmas break. How about you, Al?" James asked his brother, swivelling around in his seat.

"Yeah, I think I'll have," Albus hesitated, practically drooling over the array of coloured and wonderfully fragrant sweets in front of him," a pack of Fizzing Whizbees and a chocolate frog." He handed the woman the appropriate change from his moneybag and sat back down opposite his older brother, popping a Whizbee into his mouth as he did so.

"I'll never know how you do it, Al. Eat so much and stay so small, I mean."

"It's all the manual labour I do, keeping up with your pranks and cleaning the house when you've finished 'em. It's a wonder how mum put up with it for so long."

"Wonderful woman, she is," James replied in a slightly facetious but altogether sweet tone with a bright white, perfect smile to top it off.

"And dad's no help. I swear, if he weren't so busy heading the Auror Office, he'd be pitching fireworks and throwing dungbombs with you, and you get enough help from Uncle George as it is," Albus joked. The brothers shared a laugh and settled into their compartment on the Hogwarts Express before spreading out to their respective groups of friends: Albus to his study buddies and James to the back of the train in search of his best mate and cousin, Hugo.

"Lily," James announced himself to his younger sister and her friends, "Al and I have set up in compartment 14B if you want to put your things in there." James looked pointedly down at her bag, which was a sure tripping hazard as it stood directly in the centre of the narrow intercompartmental walkway of the train.

"Don't interrupt somebody when they're talking, James," She said playfully, slapping him lightly on the arm. She waved goodbye to her friends and gave James a look that made him say, "Ahem, shall I take your bags, baby sis?" Lily smiled sweetly and started to walk away.

"So," Lily whispered as they walked, so as not to disturb the occupants of the various passing compartments, "I hope you haven't been giving Albus to difficult a time. After all, we've only been on the train for ten minutes."

James feigned a look of shock and hurt at her presumption and replied, "Well, I never!" He was doing a very poor imitation of a Southern accent he had seen some woman do on the telly at home. This earned him another light slap.

"James, you know how you are with him sometimes. As soon as you get away from mum and dad the torture starts, that's always how it's been. But let me tell you something– he may still be a sensitive bugger, but he's not nearly as weak and naïve as the little boy you frightened into begging the sorting hat for Gryffindor three years ago. He doesn't know it, but he could probably beat you up if he felt the need."

It was true. James hadn't thought about it, but Albus had grown to be quite the masculine type. At fourteen, he was already two inches taller than his fifteen-and-a-half-year-old brother and nearly twice as big round the chest. James had a slender, well-toned quality that, in combination with his shining chestnut brown hair, skin as white and freckly as his mother's and eyes that were as vivid emerald as his father's, could only be described as breathtakingly beautiful. Albus, on the other hand, had a rugged maleness about him that was both cute, as he had yet to discover this about himself, and incredibly attractive. James could see why the girls at school were already starting to fawn over him: brains, good looks and, if his house was anything to go by, the heart of a lion.

"Wise beyond your year, eh sis?" James asked rhetorically after a moment of contemplative silence, "Actually, Al and I had a very pleasant chat in the compartment before I went to fetch you. Although I think he left to be with his group of 'Future Prefects of Hogwarts' or somethin'. "

Lily snorted loudly at this, looked around the walkway to see who had made the sound and, upon realizing her fault, turned red in the ears just like her Uncle Ron. "I'm glad you can be civil with him sometimes," She said once she had returned to a more human and less beet-like colour, "He looks up to you, you know. Don't ask me why he would choose his poncey older brother as a role model as opposed to one of his older prefect friends, but he does it." James's eyes narrowed at the word 'poncey' and his cheeks tinged red at the top, but he quickly looked away to avoid Lily's attention. In this, he failed miserably, the jerk of his head away from hers triggering her eyes to go wide.

"Oh, James, I'm sorry! I'm still new to this, aren't I? I mean, you just came out to me last week, and-"

"-Not so loud, Lily!" James said in a forceful whisper, "It's fine. Just, you know, try not to use that word with me. Please?" Lily nodded and looked at her feet ashamedly.

"Here we are, compartment 14B" James said soon afterward, immediately returning to his usual kind and friendly disposition. He put down the bag so he could open the compartment, picking it up again immediately afterward and safely stowing it in the top baggage rack. He sighed heavily after heaving the heavy bag – what could Lily possibly have put in there that was so heavy?– and sat right down on his favourite seat beside the window.

"I'm going to see if Hugo and Rose are up for some company. Are you coming, James?" Lily inquired thoughtfully.

"No, I think I'm fine here for the moment, thanks."

"Alright," she replied, "But try not to think to heavily on what I said, okay? It was an accident." James smiled weakly at this, and turned to look out the window as Lily closed the door.

"Hugo," James said as he and the other boys of his dormitory unpacked their things after the great feast, "Can I talk to you in private for a moment?"

"Oh sure," Hugo joked, "I don't see you for all of the feast and now you want to talk to me alone, do you? Some best mate you are."

"I'm really sorry about that, mate. I guess I just got separated off the train and then got caught up in the festivities."

James was only half lying; he had become quite engrossed in the Hogwarts opening ceremonies. Ever since Uncle George's joke shop had been contracted by Hogwarts to create spectacles for ceremonies and holidays, every show in the Great Hall had become a treat. This particular opening ceremony production had included magical water fountains that flung jets of water around the hall and across all the tables while simultaneously lighting up in varying shades of neon and fake candelabras interspersed among the real tableware that got up and sang to the students. It reminded James thoroughly of one of the characters from the _Beauty and the Beast_ DVD that he had leant Uncle George before the summer had started and which his Uncle had yet to return.

This had all been spectacular by itself when, to the incoming first years' utter terror, a firework exploded and created a giant, real-fire-breathing dragon! James recognized it immediately as a Hungarian Horntail by its resemblance to the moving miniature that his father kept on his desk at work. He beamed up at it with his perfect porcelain teeth as the first years– and, indeed, many of the upper classmen– shouted in fright.

Then again, he wasn't exactly telling the truth either. He had spotted Hugo's nicely dyed black hair from a mile away when the Hogwarts Express had stopped in the station of Hogsmeade. He had purposely held himself back from joining Hugo as they entered the Great Hall, waiting for his friend to choose a seat and then choosing a seat far away from that for himself. He didn't know why he was avoiding his best friend, and he felt a little pang of sadness when he saw that Hugo had removed his robes and folded them on the seat next to him as a placeholder for James, but he needed to clear his head before talking to his friend.

Hugo's sexuality could not have been a secret if he had tried to keep it as one. Outrageously– and sometimes overwhelmingly– effeminate, Hugo had been an obvious one since he had learned to talk. Hugo's hair, for example, was dyed because– according to the boy himself– "There are too many Weasleys in Hogwarts nowadays, I don't need to be constantly recognized as one", although James knew for a fact that Hugo had also done it because he thought it looked pretty. Pretty he did look, too. Hugo may have dyed his hair, but he had inherited the charm and stunning looks of both Ronald and Hermione Weasley, along with Hermione's mother's bright blue eyes to boot. Hugo knew this, and he paraded it.

In a way, James envied his cousin for having the courage to be so open about himself. After all, wasn't that what Gryffindors were famous for– courage? So, whilst in deep thought during the opening feast, of which James had barely taken two bites, James wondered-

"Am I a ponce?" James asked after closing his bed hanging around himself and his friend.

"I beg your pardon?" Hugo replied, wrinkling his brow.

"You know, am I… effeminate? Like, do I act girly around you?"

"Not that I've noticed. But then again, darling, around me everyone looks like a macho man." Hugo smiled sincerely as he said this, earning him a chuckle from James.

"I'm serious."

"Well, I can only go off of looks, you understand. I'm terrible with reading personalities. No gaydar at all."

James laughed at the word and said, "So look at me. What do you think?"

Hugo looked James up and down, making a sizzling sound with his tongue before laughing and saying, "Well, there's your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?" James said, bewildered.

"It's nice! Like _really_ nice. And it's combed, it's nearly clipped off on the sides and longer in the front with the right front side being drastically longer than the left front side," The black-haired boy explained matter-of-factly. "And James, it's _layered_."

"Oh, shove off my hair, will you?" James huffed, looking thoroughly offended.

"Why, isn't that what you wanted to hear, babycakes?" Hugo asked sweetly.

"I don't know what I wanted to hear, exactly. All I know is that that wasn't it. I'm tired now and if you don't mind, I'll change and have a bit of sleep."

"Oh, alright. I hope you feel better in the morning."

The Potter house was quiet when Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny returned from Platform 9 ¾ that day. "I love the school year," sighed Ron as he sat down on one of the island bar stools in the middle of Harry and Ginny's shining white kitchen. "Good to be away from the kids for a while, eh Harry?"

"You said it, mate," Harry agreed, "One can only take so much of, 'Dad, where's my weight set?' and 'Dad, James blew up my new dress!'"

"Oh, come off it, you two," Ginny piped up," I don't know what you would do without James to perk you up, Harry. Or without Al to bring you back to earth, or Lily to just be the sweetest girl on the face of the planet." Ginny finished her statement a little proudly, but it was overlooked when Ron laughed loudly.

"Right you are, Gin!" He said through his fit of laughter, "Rosie may have inherited Hermione's brains, but that child is an evil mastermind. Do you remember when she gave me that party hat for Christmas that wouldn't come off until New Year's? Half the department looked at me like I was crazy for weeks before they found out what she'd done. Bloody well earned her a permanent invitation to hang out with the Auror interns from that little stunt. Fucking brilliant child, she is, but she's no saint! And Hugo, don't even get me started on that. More girly than his sister, isn't he?"

Hermione scowled, "Don't poke fun at him, Ron. We all love him and no quality of his can change that, can it?" Everybody nodded. "And," she continued, "He and that Damien Flint boy from down the hill have been excellent friends to James all summer. Poor lad looked torn up when Flint moved away."

"If you ask me, James fancied the kid," Harry supplied.

"You don't think he's-" Ron started.

"Without a doubt," Harry interrupted him, while Ginny simultaneously said, "No question about it."

"Blimey," said Ron, "Do you think he knows yet?"

"Oh yes, I'm sure he does. He's just not ready to tell anyone yet, I suppose," Offered Ginny.

"In time, Ginny," Hermione said, "And when he tells us, we won't be surprised and we'll accept him like we did Hugo when he was a lad." They sat in silence for a moment, thinking of Harry's eldest child. The silence almost became awkward but, as if on cue, Ron chose to open his mouth just before that point.

"Oi, Harry. I'm bloody exhausted. Haven't had to wake up this early since we started making our own schedules, have we? Mind if I use the whirlpool bath?"

"Ron, we have a nearly identical house to this one just across the street," Hermione said in an annoyed tone, "Why don't you just take one there?"

"Because that would require me walking all the way home, as opposed to twenty steps in any direction from where I'm sitting now, my darling." Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled in spite of herself at her husband's charm.

"Alright," said Harry, "But use the whirlpool in the downstairs bathroom– the one on the second floor is broken and the master bedroom is off limits to you because of last time." He gave Ron and Hermione a hard glare under which they both flushed a deep red. They walked off hand in hand while Harry groaned.

"Well, darling, that leaves us with nothing to do."

"I could make the intern schedules while you study your runes," Harry suggested sarcastically, "Or we could hit the sauna…" Ginny giggled and followed her husband. Things were good.


End file.
